They Are The Hunters, We Are The Foxes
by E. Nergetic
Summary: Jake discovers that life without Amy isn't much of a life at all. Rated for violence and mild language.
**My first B99 story!**

 **I'm very new to this fandom so if there is a similar story out there, please let me know and I will take this down immediately. I haven't really had a chance to read much of anything on FFN so hopefully this won't be a problem.**

 **Basically I really like to switch the roles in that 'guy gets hurt girl goes crazy' trope. I really like the way this turned out.**

 **Thank you guys so much for reading! :)**

* * *

 **The Are The Hunters, We Are The Foxes**

 **March 19, 2016**

* * *

"Charles, do you think maybe you could _not_ eat that?"

Charles glanced up mid-bite, stringy bits of unidentified meat creating a gooey bridge between the half-eaten wrap in his hand and his slightly-agape mouth. "Wha-?"

Jake grimaced and fought down the urge to gag. "That, that... _thing,_ whatever it is, could you please, just…"

Charles' gaze hardened as he chewed and swallowed the bite that was in his mouth. "I'll have you know that oyster-soaked _sesos_ is an extreme delicacy -"

" _Sesos_? What is...I mean, do I _want_ to know what -"

"It's cow brain."

Jake couldn't stop his gag reflex. "Oh my - oh my _god_ -" he choked.

Charles frowned. "I guess I can save the rest for later," he mumbled as Jake rolled down the window and gasped for fresh air. "Besides, I think I see our guy."

Jake was still coughing and spluttering a little, but the cold blast of Brooklyn air seemed to be enough to wipe out the stench of _sesos_ from his car. He slid back into his seat, eyes calculating as they followed a white male in his mid-thirties whose mug shot he'd spent the last three days studying. He was currently pacing down the street. As Jake watched, the guy pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head and rubbed his arms in an attempt to generate some warmth.

"We got eyes on Mansidoolith, over," Charles said into the radio.

"Outside the Jiffy-Mart, yeah? Grey hoodie? Over." Terry's disembodied voice asked.

"That's him. We can't tell if he's armed or not. Santiago, you're wearing a vest, right? Over."

Jake's heart lurched uncomfortably. He watched his girlfriend - his beautiful, whip-smart, hard-headed and unbelievably stubborn girlfriend - subtly adjust the collar of her white peacoat to ride a little higher on her otherwise-exposed neck. She was mere yards away from Mansidoolith, back turned to him, feigning interest in the newsstand before her. "I'm good, Boyle. Over." She murmured into her hidden microphone.

Jake shifted a little in his seat, gaze flickering between Amy and Mansidoolith. "I shouldn't've teased her. I got a bad feeling about this."

Charles scoffed from the passenger's seat. "Jakey, you know Amy's one of the best detectives in Brooklyn, second only to you."

"I know, I know, but she didn't even want to do this. I teased her about going undercover and she got all _Santiago_ on me and wouldn't back down."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Jake -"

"Yeah, well, she should at least have her partner in there with her."

Jake reached down and disengaged his seatbelt, ignoring Charles' protests, and threw his door open. January's chill stung his throat when he inhaled through his nose and sent a blast of adrenaline through his system. He slammed the door in Charles' face, buried his hands in his pockets, and started toward Amy.

He knew Charles must have said something over the radio when Amy turned to face him, holding a magazine up to cover half her face, looking at him with mild alarm. "Hey, babe!" He called.

Amy lowered the magazine and forced a smile. "What're you doing here, honey? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant!"

"Ah, I couldn't stand to be away from you for any longer." Jake stepped forward and yanked Amy into a hug. "You're not wearing a vest," he hissed when her soft form came into contact with his vest.

"I told you, I'm _fine,_ " she hissed back. "Holt's pissed as hell right now. Go back to the car."

"Too late, I'm invested. He's seen us."

Jake pulled away, fake smile plastered to his face, which Amy mirrored. " _So_ , this is that world-famous newsstand you're always talking about." He pretended to survey the stand. "Interesting, I would've thought it'd be bigger than this."

Amy fake-laughed, her eyes shining with fury. "Well, _darling,_ it seems much bigger when you're _by yourself._ "

"Oh, who wants to be by themselves when they could have their _partner_ by their side?"

Amy's fake smile evaporated instantly. Her nose scrunched, her lips puckered, and Jake could tell by the way the smallest traces of warmth between vanished instantly that he was about to get the verbal beatdown of his life from his tiny girlfriend.

"He's got a gun!" Someone shouted. Jake and Amy both whipped around to find the barrel of Mansidoolith's gun trained on them.

There was an explosion and people started screaming and sirens started blaring from all sides but all Jake could process was that Amy was no longer standing beside him. He looked down and she was a few feet behind him, splayed out on the sidewalk, an alarmingly red pool of water beneath her shoulders that was somehow rapidly spreading in all directions. Her white peacoat had a red wine stain all over the chest that he'd never noticed before. Her eyes were open and glassy and staring up at the grey Brooklyn sky. "Amy?" He gasped.

Amy didn't respond. She just kept staring up at the sky. "A-Amy, Ames," Jake dropped to his knees at her side and cupped her face. She wouldn't look at him. " _Amy_ ," he tapped her cheeks. Still nothing.

Suddenly he realized the liquid staining the knees of his jeans wasn't water, but blood. Not just any blood, _Amy's blood_. "Help, _HELP!"_ He screamed.

Holt's booming baritone broke through the chaos. " _Officer down, I have an officer down! We need a medic!_ " He shouted into his captain's radio as he dropped to his knees on Amy's other side. Jake lifted her shoulders and cradled her close, taking care to tuck her head into the crook of his neck to keep it from lolling. He felt Holt searching for a pulse along her neck and he squeezed Amy's arm.

"That's a pulse," Holt said breathlessly. The tiniest wave of relief crashed through Jake's mind. "It's weak, but it's there."

"Amy, Amy, please," Jake whispered against her forehead. "Please don't go, please don't leave me, I can't _do this_ without you…"

It seemed like hours later when the ambulance finally arrived. Medics pulled Amy from Jake's arms and strapped her down to a gurney. "Captain?" One of them asked of Holt.

"Take him." Holt said. "He's her partner."

The medic gestured for Jake to climb into the back of the ambulance. He perched at the end of the cab, near the two lumps he knew to be Amy's feet, and held on to one of them for dear life as the medics began working over her quickly to staunch the blood flow.

There didn't seem to be any noticeable changes in her condition between the Jiffy-Mart and St. Paul's Hospital and Jake was on the verge of a fully-fledged panic attack when they told him he'd have to wait in the waiting room rather than follow her into the operating room. He slumped down in one of the seats in the back and ignored the way his blood-stained hands violently shook when he loosened his fists.

Five minutes after getting there the doors slid open and Gina jogged inside, her duffle-bag sized purse bouncing against her back with each step. Jake, being the only occupant of the waiting room, was not difficult to spot.

Gina slid into the seat beside his and remained silent, which Jake thought might have been a first. She slid her hand over his fist and squeezed until his fist loosened enough for her to lace their fingers together. "'S'not your fault." She murmured.

Jake felt hot, angry tears burning down his face. It _was_ his fault, but he appreciated Gina's attempt to make him feel better. He sniffled and then heaved a deep breath, desperately trying to get a hold of his emotions. "Did Holt tell you?"

"Yeah,"

Jake nodded. "Did they get the guy?"

"Terry tackled him two blocks away from where y'all originally spotted him. Broke seven of the guy's bones on impact and four more when he tried to get away."

A perverse, twisted pleasure clenched in his gut. " _Good_." Jake spat.

Gina pulled a Wet Wipe out of her purse and scrubbed the dried blood off Jake's hands.

Twenty minutes after Gina threw the ninth and final Wet Wipe away, the emergency room doors slid open again and a wind-swept, breathless Charles barreled in. "Any news?" He gasped as he clambered over a row of chairs to reach Jake and Gina.

"None, you freaky troll," Gina muttered. "Why don't you just walk around the row of chairs like a normal boy?"

Charles ignored her and took the seat on Jake's other side, an almost comical look of desperate worry on his face. "Jakey, she's gonna be okay,"

"For real, Jake."

"Don't," Jake muttered. "Don't say that shit when you don't know."

He felt rather than saw Gina and Charles exchange a look over his bowed head. "Jake, this is _Amy_ we're talking about. The most determined, tenacious detective in the nine-nine. She's not going down without a fight."

"You can't _fistfight_ a _bullet_ , Boyle." Jake spat.

Charles recoiled at Jake's vicious tone and Jake almost felt bad for it over the crushing sense of guilt fear and worry. "Sorry," Jake whispered. "I just, I...I don't...I don't know what...I mean, I…" Charles threw an arm over Jake's shoulders and Gina squeezed his hand. "I can't lose her, I can't, I...I love her, I love her so much, I can't lose her, she can't leave without knowing that I...that I…"

Jake dissolved. Tears flowed freely down his face and he sobbed. It was like the day his father left all over again, but so much more real and visceral. Losing his father hurt, but losing Amy?

It would be like carving out his heart and soul and then trampling on it.

Charles and Gina let him cry in silence. They didn't try to tell him that everything would be okay, not again. They just sat with him and held him.

An hour later, a nurse appeared and told them that Amy was still in surgery and that she was in critical condition.

An hour after that, the doors opened and the rest of the nine-nine detective team poured in. Jake grimaced and prepared himself for the verbal lashing he knew would be coming from Diaz and Holt and Terry probably at the same time.

Instead of that, they just sat down across from him in silence. Jake glanced up through blurry, bloodshot eyes at Diaz, who just frowned and nodded at him. He messed up. He knew it. That was all.

Terry left to get everyone coffee while Hitchcock and Scully found a way to get thirty dollars worth of snacks out of the vending machine using one quarter and the nine-nine ate and drank in tense silence. Jake couldn't believe he was shoveling artificial fruit snacks down his throat while his girlfriend was fighting for her life within a hundred yards from him. It was all so stupid, so unbelievably stupid.

Jake stood up an hour later to stretch his stiff, cramping legs and to find a bathroom. He finally found one around the corner from the waiting room and as he stepped up to the urinal, he heard the bathroom door open again.

"I know I messed up." Jake said without looking away from the tile wall. "I know this is my fault, so if we could just save the lecture for another time -"

"I'm not here to lecture you, Peralta." Holt interrupted calmly. Jake clenched his jaw. "I'm just here to let you know that this entire precinct - myself included - will be there to support you, no matter the outcome."

Jake flushed the urinal and turned to face Holt. The captain was looking at Jake with more compassion and understanding than Jake had ever seen before, and it made him want to cry again. He didn't deserve it. If he'd just stayed in the car with Boyle and that oyster-soaked cow brain wrap, Amy might have been able to pull off a successful arrest without getting shot in the chest.

"You don't know that," Holt said gently, and Jake realized his stream of thought had erupted from his mouth like word-vomit. "Amy could have easily lost her cool on her own. The fact that she wasn't wearing a vest - which was _her_ choice, by the way, _not_ yours - certainly didn't help matters. While I do think that you should have kept your composure a bit longer, I understand why you couldn't." Hold glanced down at his feet. "If anything like that ever happened to Kevin, I don't...I don't know that I would be able to handle it with as much grace and composure as you have been handling this."

"Cap, I'm a wreck." Jake barked. "I've already broken down twice. I'm on the verge of another one right now. I'm not handling this well, I'm barely handling it at all -"

"The fact that you haven't burst through the operating room doors tells me that you're handling this better than I would." Holt interrupted again. Jake deflated; that thought _had_ crossed his mind, and if it weren't for Gina's vice-like grip on his hand, he was pretty positive that he would have done that by now. "All I am trying to convey to you is that you have a group of people to fall back on no matter how this ends. The nine-nine is a family, Jake. We are here for you."

Jake dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded. "I'm gonna hug you." He whispered.

When Holt didn't protest, Jake crossed the space between them in two quick strides and practically dove into Holt's embrace. Holt hugged him hard and thumped him on the shoulders several times before Jake finally pulled away.

When they emerged from the bathroom, they were met by the tumultuous sound of seven grown men arguing with every available detective in the waiting room. Jake blinked. The men all had jet-black hair and olive skin and looked ready to fight to the death with anyone who crossed their path.

"Excuse me, gentlemen!" Holt shouted over the din. The quieted a little, looking at Holt and Jake in confusion. "Is there something we can assist you with?"

"They're Amy's brothers," Rosa snarled.

"Are you Jake?" The one closest to Jake demanded.

"Uh, yeah,"

"She told us about you. What the hell happened to our baby sister?"

Holt stepped forward, projecting himself between Amy's brother and Jake. "Detective Santiago was undercover and a suspect shot her in the chest."

"You catch the guy?" One closer to the back demanded.

"He is currently in custody, yes."

The doors to the emergency room opened once again and a couple in their late sixties with salt-and-pepper hair rushed in, looking panicked and wind-swept. "Where's our baby? Where's our A-Cakes?" The man demanded.

"Ma, dad," the brother closest to the door intercepted them. "She got shot, she's in surgery now."

Mrs. Santiago immediately collapsed against Mr. Santiago. "Did they catch the bastard who shot her?" He demanded over his wife's sobs.

The brother glanced back at Holt and Jake. "The suspect is in custody." Holt said.

"You must be Captain Holt," Mr. Santiago said. He shuffled himself and Mrs. Santiago forward and shook Holt's hand. "Amy's always talking about you. You're a hell of a captain, sir."

"Your daughter's a hell of a detective." Holt said.

Mr. Santiago smiled, but his gaze drifted back to Jake. "And you must be Jake Peralta."

Jake felt his heart lurch into his throat. "Uh, yeah," he said, mouth suddenly bone-dry. "Hi."

Mr. Santiago's handshake was warm and firm. "You make Amy very happy." He said seriously. Jake swallowed and forced a smile. "I just wish we could have met under better circumstances."

The Santiago clan finally sat, and the waiting room lapsed into silence once again.

Three hours later, right as Jake was starting to come to terms with the fact that he might just lose his mind, the same nurse from before appeared in the doorway. Jake and the rest of the nine-nine straightened and Jake's heart began a terrifying tattoo against his breast.

The Santiagos were a bit late to realize what was happening; it wasn't until the nine-nine stood that they finally snapped to attention.

"Amy Santiago?" The nurse called. Jake nodded numbly and clenched his fists. "The bullet hit her collarbone and ricocheted down through her torso. There was some internal bleeding and damage to her left lung, but one of her ribs stopped the bullet from travelling any further down. We were able to extract the bullet and patch up the damage it caused."

"So she's gonna be okay?" Jake asked breathlessly.

"She is expected to make a full recovery." The nurse said with a smile.

Jake fell backwards into his chair and buried his face in his hands. He knew he was sobbing and he should have felt embarrassed to be doing so in front of his girlfriend's family who he'd known for less than six hours but he just couldn't help it. The relief was so powerful it knocked him right off his feet. "Oh thank God," he mumbled through his tears, "thank you, thank you, _thank you_ ,"

"Can we see her?" Jake heard one of the brothers ask.

"She's still in and out of consciousness, so for right now we're going to ask that you only go back one or two at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."

"Who goes first?"

"She's been asking for a Jake Peralta each time she wakes up."

Jake straightened in his chair. "That's me," he mumbled, trying to ignore the way every eye in the room was trained on his tear-stained face. "I'm Jake Peralta."

"Come with me."

The nurse led him back into the emergency room, through a twisting maze of hallways, before finally stopping at a door unmarked aside from the number 809. "She's just in there," the nurse said. "She's heavily medicated so she may be in and out. It's totally normal. Please hit the Call Nurse button if she starts experiencing any pain."

Jake nodded seriously before turning to face the door. His heart thumped uneasily in his chest. He heaved a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The room was fairly standard for an underfunded ER; a lot of sterile white and grey, no windows to the outside world. A cluster of beeping and humming machines crowded around the head of the bed, where a perfectly motionless, pale, peaceful looking Amy was sleeping.

Jake was drawn to her immediately. He dragged a plastic chair closer to the right side of the bed and perched on the edge of it. Her left shoulder was peeking through her hospital gown, heavily wrapped in white gauze. Her hair was down and spread across the pillow behind her and for a moment Jake could just pretend like he was watching her sleep in his bed for the first time again. He scooped her right hand up and squeezed it between both of his because her fingers were icy cold beneath his skin. She shifted and groaned and he was thrown back into reality.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked up at the light above her. "Jake," she whispered.

"I'm right here, Ames," he whispered back.

She seemed startled when her head snapped toward the sound of his voice. "You're here," she murmured.

"I'm here."

She studied his face for a moment. "You've been crying," she said softly. Jake pressed his lips together and nodded. "Are you okay?"

"I am now,"

"What happened?"

"Mansidoolith shot you."

She hummed hoarsely. "Did they catch him?"

"Terry broke eleven of his bones tackling him after he ran."

Amy furrowed her brow. "Ow,"

"Are you in pain?" Jake asked, shifting toward her uneasily.

"No, no, I mean, 'ow, that had to hurt.'"

"Oh. Well, he deserved it." Amy just blinked slowly and lazily and Jake felt his heart bursting with thankfulness. "Listen, Ames, I'm...I'm so sorry. This was my fault, I was the one who gave you away, if I hadn't -"

"Jake," she squeezed his hand weakly. "I should've worn a vest. If I'd worn a vest, we wouldn't even be here right now. This is my fault."

Jake wanted to argue, but he couldn't find the will to with her in the state she was in. "Agree to disagree," he said.

She smiled and he squeezed her hand. "Where's the rest of the nine-nine?"

"In the waiting room. The nurse said we could only come back one or two at a time so as not to overwhelm you."

Amy huffed. "I'm fine," she said softly.

Jake chuckled and pressed his lips against her fingers. She smiled serenely at him. "Hey, Amy, I need to tell you something. See, I've been...well, lately, I just...um...I love you."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. In fact, I think I have for a long time. I've just been, y'know...I've been super _Jake_ about it. It wasn't until I almost lost you that I realized you need to know. You deserve to know. You don't have to say it back or anything, I just...wanted you to know."

Amy smiled softly at him. "I love you too, Peralta."

Jake's grin was blinding. "Don't move, okay?" She nodded and he stood to hover over her. He planted one hand on the mattress over her left shoulder to keep himself steady and pressed his lips against hers fervently. She hummed into his kiss.

When he finally pulled away, her eyelids were at half-mast. "I do love you, but you might have to remind me when I'm a little less drugged up," she mumbled.

By the time Jake lowered himself back into his seat, she was already asleep again. He had to remind her three more times before she finally remembered on her own.


End file.
